


Forgotten Promises

by Hanaasbananas



Series: Through the realms of old romance [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26588269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanaasbananas/pseuds/Hanaasbananas
Summary: Sequel to Phantoms in the Dark“Our souls are entwined, my lady. And that is no small thing. In every lifetime, in every land, we shall find each other. Of that there is no doubt.”For months now, these words have been haunting Marinette’s dreams. Strange dreams, where her superhero partner Chat Noir is dressed like the dashing hero in an old romance novel; where danger lurks around every corner and they are lovers, his passion for her setting her pulse racing in her chest.But Marinette loves Adrien Agreste. This is an irrefutable fact. And with Hawkmoth still terrorising the city, she can’t afford to let these dreams affect her partnership with Chat Noir, but as she struggles to hide them from Adrien, Marinette finds that she might not have much of a choice in the matter.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Through the realms of old romance [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934101
Comments: 19
Kudos: 54





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! Hope this lives up to your expectations lol
> 
> Just a quick note: In this fic, Adrien and Marinette got their miraculous when they were a little older, around 15 or 16, so they are 19/20 respectively, here.

**Paris, February 1789**

The New Year had come and gone, but this year there was no celebration. No, this year there was only grief; a pall of gloom hanging over the city like a shroud. The normally bustling metropolis had gone quiet, it’s citizens bowing their heads, people whispering in twos or threes about the great tragedy of that cold December night. 

It was why Tom and Sabine had left, selling the inn and retiring to the countryside town of Gascony shortly after the burial. Constance could hardly blame them. She was leaving too.

Constance shivered, pulling her shawl tighter over her shoulders. Beside her, her husband Jacques watched the road for the man they were to meet. 

The creature—Plagg—as he had introduced himself, assured them that this ‘Guardian’ would come to collect him shortly, and though she was glad to be rid of the small beast-this was the last thing that tied her to Paris after all-Constance had to admit that she would miss him. Twisting the ring around on her finger, she peered down the road, willing the Guardian to hurry up. 

Soon, she would be free to go. But she would never be free of the memories. 

Marinette...Constance felt the sob building in her throat and pressed her lips together to muffle the sound. 

Oh the dreams they’d had! How excited they’d been to marry and live as neighbours, to have children at the same time and raise them to be as good friends as their mothers were. Resting a hand on her swollen belly, Constance allowed a few tears to fall. And now those dreams had been dashed, in the cruellest possible way. 

Had it really only been two months? The wind gusted through the trees just as it had that night, the moon hanging bright above them, peering out from behind the stormy clouds and illuminating the white stretch of road upon which she stood. She could almost hear the  _ tlot-tlot _ of Chat’s horse on the road, as though she had transported herself back in time. 

If only. 

Suddenly, Jacques grabbed her by the hand, squeezing so hard as though he intended to break it. “Wha—,” Constance pulled her hand free, glaring at him but he only shushed her, and gestured down the road. 

Squinting in the dark, Constance looked for what had her husband so agitated and felt the breath freeze in her throat.

“What? Is he here?” Plagg demanded, flying out of her skirts. When she remained silent, he zipped out onto the road, stopping dead at what he saw.

For Chat Noir was the horseman on the road. 

There was no mistaking him. He wore that same coat of claret velvet he’d worn on that fateful morning, the lace at his throat impossibly white in the darkness, with no sign of the blood that had soaked it upon his death.

Blinking furiously, Constance rubbed her eyes, as though that would get rid of the apparition, but then the hoofbeats pounding on the road got closer and Jacques only just managed to pull Constance back from where she had frozen in place as Chat thundered past them.

He’d ridden into the innyard now and...oh gods, he stopped directly underneath Marinette’s window where the shutters flew open and…

Constance gasped, stumbling backwards in shock, clutching at Jacques arm as he caught her, not caring about how painfully tight his grip was when she saw—when she was looking at—

She couldn’t be there. She  _ couldn’t _ . The inn had been locked and barred for two months now, with not a single person inhabiting it but somehow...Marinette was at the window. Marinette was standing at her window  _ unharmed _ , as though she’d never torn her chest open with a musket, had never killed herself in the worst way imaginable. 

“Restless spirits,” next to her, Plagg muttered to himself, though she barely heard him through the blood rushing in her ears. “They’re waiting for something. But for  _ what? _ ” 

And as she watched, her heart in her throat, Marinette climbed out of the casement into her lovers waiting arms; where he settled her in front of himself and grasped the reins once more, turning back to the road. 

Constance wanted desperately to scream, to run after them, grab at her best friend's hand as the couple rode by, but as the moon went behind the clouds again, the phantoms flickered briefly in the wind, and then vanished without a trace. 

* * *

**Paris, August 2020**

“Oh!” 

Marinette bolted upright in bed, her heart beat a hummingbird fluttering in her chest. For a moment, she was confused, disoriented and unsure of her surroundings as her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her. 

Breathing heavily, she reached for the bottle of water she kept on the nightstand, gulping down the cool liquid, allowing it to soothe her parched throat. From beside her, she heard a sleepy, startled voice as Adrien stirred. “Princess, what is it?” 

"N-nothing, it was just a bad dream." 

"Didn't sound like nothing." 

“It really was,” she assured him, letting him pull her back down, and gather her close. For as long as they’d been together, he’d always been able to calm her with nothing more than a gentle touch and she immediately relaxed against him. “I can’t even remember it.”

Adrien pressed a kiss to her shoulder, barely lifting his lips from her skin as he spoke, so that his every word tickled her pleasantly. “I can tell when you’re lying, you know.”

Twisting in his embrace, Marinette cupped his face in her hands, looking deeply into his sleepy green eyes. It was one of her favourite things, the way his eyes darkened when he was tired. “I’m  _ not _ .” She said firmly: “really all I can remember is bits and pieces. It doesn’t matter, there’s nothing to worry about.” 

“If you’re sure.” His eyes were filled with concern, and Marinette felt such a rush of affection for her boyfriend, the feeling threatening to explode out of her chest as she stroked the hair at his temple, bumping her nose with his. 

“I am.” She kissed him, softly, sweetly, feeling the way Adrien began to smile against her lips, bringing a hand up to tangle in her hair before she pulled away. “Now  _ sleep, _ you’ve got that test tomorrow, remember?”

It didn’t take him long to fall back asleep, his eyes slipping shut even as she spoke, and Marinette watched him for a moment, carding her fingers gently through his hair, smiling fondly as he nuzzled into her hand. 

Adrien had been too tired to question her properly, and she hadn’t  _ really _ lied, per se but guilt still gnawed away in her stomach. How could she tell him that she dreamt of another man? That she hardly remembered anything from the dreams, except the way his teeth glinted in the moonlight as he laughed, throwing his head back like a child; the way his fingers felt on her skin, how she’d awaken feeling both heartbroken and elated, knowing somewhere deep in her bones that she  _ loved  _ this man; and the one thing that had her mind in utter turmoil ever since the dreams had begun—his name: Chat Noir. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers crossed, new updates should come every Monday!


	2. Sleepless Nights

Chat was on his second lap of the city when he saw her.

Slowing to a stop on a roof across the street from the bakery, he observed Marinette, standing at her balcony, her head bowed over the railing. The sight reminded him of another night, long ago, and before he could think about what he was doing, he’d landed on the wall behind her. 

“Mind if I join you?” Although he tried to keep it quiet, his voice seemed to echo in the night, and Marinette startled, spinning around with her hand to her chest; searching for the source of the voice before her eyes alighted on him.

“God, you scared me!” She exclaimed, before nodding up at him. “Come on then, you might as well.”

“Sorry.” Chat jumped down from his perch, landing beside her at the railing. “I just saw your light on and thought…” he trailed off, realising he had no real excuse. 

Really, he’d seen the light and just wanted to see his girlfriend. Marinette was staying with her parents for a couple of days to help out with the bakery while her parents completed a big wedding order, and he wasn’t particularly looking forward to going home to an empty apartment tonight, sleeping in an empty bed without her beside him. 

But Chat Noir didn’t know Marinette that well. _Adrien_ did. And after the conversation he’d had with Ladybug earlier, he doubted she’d be impressed if he told his girlfriend his secret identity. So instead he just shrugged, lapsing into silence. It was enough for now to just stand beside her, and enjoy her company. 

After a while, she nudged him with her arm, peering over at him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Tch.” He waved a hand dismissively. “There’s nothing to talk about.” She didn’t respond and then Chat burst out “I just don’t get why Ladybug insists on keeping identities secret still. It’s been years, and it would be better if we knew…woah.” He stared at Marinette, wide eyed. “I didn’t even realise I was that annoyed. Do you have some kind of truth telling superpower?” Chat was only half joking—he’d always found it easy to open up to Marinette—but she jerked away in surprise.

“What? Pssht, nooo, I don’t have any superpowers,” she laughed awkwardly. “Can you imagine? _Me_ a superhero? Yeah right.” 

Chat raised an eyebrow. “You were one once,” he reminded her. “Multimouse was pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah and I screwed up immediately afterwards.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “But this identity thing...have you talked to Ladybug about it?” 

“No.” Chat ran a hand through his hair. “It really isn’t a big deal. I'm just a little annoyed. I’ll be fine.” He didn’t sound particularly convincing, and from Marinette’s expression, she didn’t think so either.

Chat knew he was being unreasonable. He’d known what Ladybug would say already, had known it before he'd even finished asking the question, seen Ladybug’s answer in the way her eyes softened, how she’d reached out for him as if to placate a stubborn child.

_“You know we can’t know each other’s identities until Hawkmoth is defeated, Chaton,”_ she’d said softly. “ _It’s too dangerous to do it before._ ”

He’d wanted to ask what she was so afraid of. It had been _years_ now, and knowing could only help them. Wanted to tell her that lately, every part of him screamed that she _needed_ to know his name, that it was of the utmost importance that she knew he was Adrien Agreste. But instead he’d just smiled and nodded, accepting Ladybug’s decision. Just like he always did. 

That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a _little_ annoyed. So he’d muttered a quick apology to Plagg—promising him extra cheese when he got home— and started doing laps around the city to burn off some steam. 

“Why is it so important anyway?” 

Marinette’s voice broke him out of his thoughts and he blinked, shaking his head to focus. “Huh?” 

“I asked why it’s such a big deal to you.”

“I-,” Chat made a sound in the back of his throat, shrugging helplessly. “It isn’t. Not really. I just...I don’t know, recently I’ve started feeling like something bad will happen if she _doesn’t_ know who I am. It’s probably stupid, I know. Nothing’s happened yet, after all.” 

“It’s not stupid. Not if that’s how you feel.” He felt a light pressure on his arm and looked down in surprise to see Marinette had placed her hand on his arm. She flushed, pulling away like she’d been burned. “You should talk to her about it.”

“Probably,” Chat agreed. “But enough about my problems, what has you up so late?”

“I just came up for some fresh air. We can’t all go running across the rooftops like _some_ people I know.” 

“Don’t princesses need their beauty sleep?” he teased. 

“This one doesn’t," she muttered darkly and Chat frowned.

“Why, what’s the matter?” His question wasn’t just an attempt to keep the attention off himself, though it helped. For a while now, he’d noticed that Marinette seemed to be avoiding going to sleep, almost as if she was afraid of what would happen when she did.

Too many times, he’d woken up in the middle of the night to find his side of the bed empty, the light from the sitting room leaking into their bedroom through a crack in the door. He’d find her hunched over her sewing machine, even as her eyes drooped shut, or knocked out on top of a pile of fabric, hardly stirring when he picked her up and brought her to bed. It had been endearing the first few times, but it was now becoming a regular occurrence, and it worried him. Worried him even more when she brushed it off and didn’t talk about it. 

He wondered if she would tell him. Maybe she didn’t want to tell _Adrien_ what was going on, but what about Chat? He’d heard it was sometimes easier for people to talk to relative strangers.

“Just deadlines.” Marinette said. “I’ve got a few commissions lined up so I can’t afford sleep right now. I made an executive decision to choose between food and sleep and food won out.” She shrugged. “This _is_ a bakery after all.” 

Then again. Maybe not. It seemed she didn’t want to talk about it with _anyone_. Chat didn’t know if he should be relieved or disappointed.

“In that case, I won’t keep you,” Chat said. “I should probably get home anyway, my kwami is gonna be _so_ mad that I stayed transformed this long. Thank you for your company tonight, Marinette.” He bowed exaggeratedly, winking at her before turning to vault away into the night. “Until the next time!”

* * *

Marinette was _tired._

Tired didn’t even begin to cover it. Drained. Exhausted. 

While she waited for Alya, she slumped into her seat, letting her forehead hit the table with an audible _thunk_. 

“Wow.” The voice came from above her. “I’m glad to see you too.”

“Don’t start,” Marinette turned her head so that she wasn’t speaking into the table. Lifting her head slightly she spoke more clearly before dropping her head again. “I got out of bed for you. That’s more than anyone else can say, Césaire.” 

“Well, I’m honoured.” Alya held back a laugh as she slid into the chair opposite her. “Commissions again?” 

Marinette waved a hand as if to say _of course._ Sitting up properly this time, she spoke out loud. “They’re mostly done, just a few finishing touches left but I was up all night working on Adrien and I’s costumes for the party tomorrow.”

That wasn’t the only reason, but it was close enough. The truth was, she hadn’t been able to sleep for hours, turning Chat’s words over and over in her head as she lay in bed. She hadn’t known that Chat felt that strongly about their identities, had in fact dismissed it as she had the many other times he’d asked in the past, but…

...But for some reason this time, when he brought up the subject, she’d felt a bone chilling fear take hold of her and she’d had to fight to keep her voice normal; to speak as though the thought of revealing her identity didn’t fill her with terror. 

It was a terror she only felt after one of _those_ dreams. The dreams that had her looking at Chat in a way she’d never done before. 

The dreams hadn’t always scared her. Though they were certainly unsettling, they’d seemed harmless; a strange thing her subconscious mind created, that had the added side effect of rendering her unable to look Chat Noir in the eye during patrol. 

Recently though, they’d changed. Most mornings now, she’d wake with a sharp pain in her chest and tears on her cheeks, as though she’d witnessed something deeply deeply terrible.

Marinette still didn’t remember them—they always seemed to dissipate like mist as soon as she awoke, dissolving faster whenever she tried to grab at whatever parts she could. But she could never shake the feeling they evoked in her. The fear. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if it was some kind of premonition. A warning that some kind of harm was going to come to Chat Noir.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Marinette took a sip of her coffee, belatedly realising that Alya was still talking to her.

“-so can you just look over these pictures? I can’t decide which one to use for my next feature on the blog.”

“Yeah, sure.” Marinette took Alya’s proffered phone, swiping through the photos of herself and Chat Noir. With everything going on she’d forgotten that Alya had asked the two of them for a quick photo op the week before. She hadn’t actually had a chance to see how they’d turned out before she had to go, but she had to admit, they were good. 

She paused at the last one, her thumb hovering over the screen. “Is that-” she bought the phone closer to her face. “Is he _flexing?”_

“He is.” Alya sniggered. “I swear, that boy should be a model with the way he poses sometimes.” 

Marinette hummed in agreement, staring at the photo for longer than was strictly necessary. Chat’s suit really _didn’t_ hide anything. “Well, I think the second photo should work for the article,” she handed the phone back, “unless you want to use that last one to bring in more hits.” 

Alya raised an eyebrow. “You think? That could be a cool experiment actually, have one post with a standard photo and one with a thirst trap and see which one gets more hits.” 

Marinette bought her mug up to cover her face, hiding the faint blush that had tinted her cheeks at the sight of the photo. “Mhm.” 

“Wait, are you _blushing?”_ Alya leaned forward, peering at Marinette’s face with a grin, laughing when she sputtered, ducking her head as her cheeks flushed even brighter. 

“You are!” Alya crowed. “Oh, do you have a little celebrity crush?”

“I do _not!”_

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” she winked conspiratorially, her face lighting up as her eyes alighted on something behind Marinette and she began waving. “Looks like our sunshine boy might have some competition— Hey Nino!” 

As Nino walked around and pulled out a chair beside Alya, Marinette felt a warm hand on her back and immediately melted into the touch, tilting her head back to look at Adrien as he spoke to Alya. “So, what were you guys talking about?”

"Oh, nothing," Alya grinned. “We were just talking about Marinette's crush on Chat Noir."

"Really now." He sounded amused. “Well, he _is_ a hero. If you leave me for Chat Noir, I can’t say I’d blame you.”

“Yep. You’re gonna have to step up your game, now, boy!”

"Uh uh.” Marinette lifted her arms up, making a grabby motion until Adrien laughed and leaned down to kiss her, cupping her face in his palms. Pulling away, she booped his nose. “You are the only guy for me, Adrien Agreste.” 

“That’s good to know,” he smiled indulgently down at her. Gently, Adrien traced the dark circles underneath her eyes, “long night?” She saw the unspoken question in his eyes, and nodded slightly, watching as his shoulders relaxed and he moved to sit beside her. Putting an arm around her shoulders, Adrien pulled her close, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m glad.” 

Marinette knew he worried about how much sleep she was getting, more so when he couldn’t make sure she got to bed at a reasonable time while she stayed with her parents. His concern was so endearing that she’d promised him that she’d try to get at _least_ four hours a night, and she’d certainly been trying to keep her promise, with mixed results. 

She wanted to tell Adrien about the dreams, of course she did. But what would be the point? Nothing could be done about them. She’d even tried taking sleeping pills for a week, but they’d worked a little _too_ well and it had taken Tikki fifteen minutes to wake her up when there was an akuma attack. She couldn’t risk taking them again. 

With a sigh, Marinette leaned into Adrien, reaching up to grasp his hand on her shoulder and twine their fingers together. Sipping at her coffee she tuned out the conversation, letting the voices of her friends wash over her as she closed her eyes, basking in the sunlight that streamed in from the window beside her. 

She’d just have to deal with it. That was all. They were just dreams, after all. What harm could they do? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is being a little asshole and keeps telling me this chapter is terrible. Sigh
> 
> Follow me on:  
> [tumblr](https://hanaasbananas.tumblr.com/)  
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/hanaasbananaswrites/)


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